


Undertale Origins: Tales of the Eight Fallen Children

by MouseyJ



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Attempted Sexual Assault, Bullying, Character Death, Child Abuse, Explicit Language, Gen, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Knives, Mild Blood, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Original Character Death(s), Orphans, Other, Sad, Sexism, Sexist Language, Transphobia, Weapons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:49:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24775654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MouseyJ/pseuds/MouseyJ
Summary: Before Frisk, seven human children fell into the Underground, where all of them met their fate. Why would these humans venture into a place so unforgiving, a place from which it was rumored that none returned? In this story I plan to explore these questions and more. Specific content warnings will be given in the notes of each chapter if there are any I forgot to tag in the description. Each human will have a book divided into chapters.
Kudos: 1





	1. CHARA - The Village Children

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, reader. This is my first fic. Be sure to read the additional tags for the story's main content warnings and let me know if there is anything else you think I should tag!

**Book 1: CHARA**

In the shade of Mt. Ebott and on the outskirts of the village lay a small, shabby farmhouse. Along the sides of the house, a garden bloomed in the shade of a willow tree, filled with peonies, wisteria, and spider mums. Strawberries peeked out of the soil between the flowers, making for delicious jam and tarts in the summer. Inside the house lived a small family of three. A mother, a father, and a lone child whose story would truly begin soon enough.

Chara’s eyelids fluttered open. The sun shone through the leaves of the willow and warmed their skin. They let out a long yawn, stretching their weary limbs. Today was Saturday! Chara smiled softly and pulled back their plain yellow bed cover and got up. They changed out of their pajamas and into their favorite outfit, a faded lime green shirt with a dark green stripe and a pair of brown cargo pants. Chara liked all the pockets; Perfect for collecting interesting rocks and flowers.

Chara glared in the bathroom mirror as they brushed their teeth. A reddish-purple bruise stained their cheek, making the freckles look like stars in a galaxy. Chara never really liked their appearance, but this blemish on their skin, a sign of weakness, made them feel even more bitter. Once they had finished freshening up, Chara pulled out a chair across from their parents and sat at the dinner table wordlessly, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl.

“Good morning!” Mother quipped softly, smiling- but the wrinkles under her eyes betrayed her exhaustion. Mouth full of fruit, Chara waved meagerly. Mother’s smile faded a bit and she continued to pick at her eggs, only ever eating a small bite at a time. Father snorted, a bitter smirk on his face.

“You didn’t hear your mother, kid? She said good morning,” He sneered, and the last words were spoken in a high-pitched mockery of Mother’s voice.

“Morning,” Chara fixed their gaze on Father, then down at the table.

“No respect these days,” Father grumbled and stood from his chair. He put on his coat and made his way to the door. “I’ve got an all day shift, Grace. I’ll be back around 8 or so tonight.”

“Alright. Enjoy your day, honey,” Mother finally looked up from her plate once more and smiled meekly at Father, who muttered a response under his breath and left. Mother let out a long, labored sigh and sat in thought for a moment before getting up to throw out her leftovers. “You know, your father’s right. You could stand to show a little more respect.”

“Why?” Chara snapped, “He doesn’t ever respect me.” They gestured to the bruise on their cheek.

“Charlie,” Chara’s nose wrinkled at the mention of their nickname. It was fairly gender neutral, and shorthand for their more gendered birth name, but even Charlie didn’t feel like them. “You know your father is sensitive, and he’s got his own issues that he’s still working on. I think you need to be a bit more understanding. You do tend to instigate sometimes.”

“Sorry.” Not. Chara pushed in their chair and tossed the remainder of the apple in the trash. Before Mother could say anything else, Chara had already slammed the front door behind them.

Chara walked along the rocky dirt path, passing houses and shops before finally coming upon the village square. In the center of the village stood a gorgeous water fountain, surrounded by golden flowers and a brick rim on which one could sit and feel the fountain’s refreshing mist. Chara smiled and took a seat on the brick. They leaned over and smelled the beautiful flowers. The calming scent filled their nose, and in combination with the warm sunlight and gentle sound of water, it made everything okay for a moment. Then, a soccer ball hit Chara right in the head, and the moment was over. Laughter erupted from behind them, and Chara quickly turned around and glared. The group of kids responsible approached.

“What’s up, Charlie?” One of the kids spoke, still stifling a laugh at Chara’s expense. Chara rolled their eyes. It was Billy, one of their classmates and a huge bully. “Picking some flowers for your mommy?” The other three kids snickered once more.

“No,” Chara retorted, their brows furrowed deeply. If looks could kill, they’d be much happier. “I’m not even picking them, I’m just smelling them.” The kids giggled and Chara wondered what was so funny.

“Why don’t you play soccer with us?” Asked Thomas, the youngest. His eyes looked kind of sad although he was smiling, and Chara almost wondered if he was being sincere.

“Charlie doesn’t wanna play soccer, she’s a girl!” One of the other kids, Lily, piped up.

Here we go again, thought Chara.

“What? Nuh-uh! He’s a boy, he’s just a sissy with girl hair!”

Cue the insults.

“No way, she’s just an ugly girl who wears boy clothes! We don’t let girls play with us.”

“Oh yeah? Well, what kind of girl gets into fights at school, huh?” The group continued fighting and Chara stood from their spot by the fountain, hoping to sneak away unnoticed.

“Hey! How come you’re not saying anything?” Mary, who had largely remained quiet, finally inquired, “Well? Are you a boy or a girl?” Chara looked between each face in the group. All eyes were on them and everyone had fallen silent.

“Uh,” Chara sputtered, trying to think of something to say, “I’m not… not either?” Chara hated being put into a box and when possible, they always dodged the question. They even told all their teachers that they were neither, but most of the teachers knew because Chara’s parents would tell them and then punish Chara at home for disrespecting the teachers.

“That’s not even possible!” Billy snorted. “If you won’t tell us, we’ll just find out ourselves!” Billy grabbed Chara’s arm and dragged them into an alley and behind a dumpster. The other kids followed, cheering and laughing excitedly.

“No!” Chara yelled, tears forming in their dark eyes. They struggled against Billy, but the other three kids pinned them on the ground, still giggling like crazy. “Get OFF of me!” Chara kicked and thrashed as Billy grabbed the hem of their pants.

“Be quiet, freak!” He hissed, struggling to keep his grip on Chara as they fought.

“Hey! You kids get out of here!” A voice came from further down the alley. A young man in an apron waved his arms at the kids frantically, approaching the scene. “Get away from my store or I’ll call the cops!”

“Whatever, fag,” Billy quickly stood up dusted himself off, the others following suit. “Not like the cops would help you anyway.” The kids scurried away, muttering amongst themselves and occasionally glancing back.

Chara scooched up against the dumpster and buried their head in their hands, finally letting out the sobs that they had been holding back.

“Hey, are you okay?” The man said softly as he crouched down next to Chara, “Don’t worry, I saw what they were doing. It wasn’t right. Are you hurt?” Chara sniffed and shook their head. The kind man offered them a hand. “I have an idea. Why don’t we go in my shop and get you a nice cup of tea or hot cocoa and some cookies, okay?” Chara wiped their eyes and looked up at the stranger’s face. They nodded and finally took his hand.


	2. CHARA - A Pleasant Stranger

Once inside, the shop owner sat Chara down at a table and asked what kind of drink they would like.

“Green tea, please,” Chara replied meekly, “If you have any.”

“Of course. Right away!” The man flashed a kind smile and headed behind the counter to start boiling the water. A moment later, he came back and placed a tray of cookies on the table. “Bon appétit!” He stood for a moment, waiting for a response, then his smile faded. “Are you sure you aren’t hurt? I have bandages if you need any. Would you like me to call your parents?” Chara’s heart began racing.

“No,” They quickly discouraged the idea, “I’m okay, really.” The shop owner nodded with knowing eyes. A moment of silence passed over the shop.

“So, do you have a name?” At this, Chara felt their face heat up. They didn’t really know what to say.

“C-Chara.” They gulped, hoping he wouldn’t say anything about that not being a real name.

“Chara,” he sat in thought for a moment, smiling at the downtrodden child. “That’s a nice name. I’m Michael. I own this shop!” Chara breathed a sigh of relief. They looked around the store. It gave off a very cozy feeling, with a nice stone fireplace and wooden tables and chairs. The walls were sage green with large windows, and there were lots of little plants on the windowsills.

“Where is everyone?” Chara wondered aloud, seeing that the beautiful shop was empty except for the two of them. Michael chuckled.

“I’m not open yet! I open later Saturday mornings,” He explained, getting up to fetch the tea and some cups. “Mostly so I can sleep in.” Chara let out a little chuckle, finally plucking a cookie from the tray. Michael returned with another tray, this one containing a pretty china teapot and two matching cups. He poured a cup for Chara, and then one for himself. Chara graciously sipped the tea and munched on their cookie. The two sat in silence for a bit, relishing the peace.

“You know, when I was your age, kids bullied me too.” A pained expression fell over Michael’s face.

“Really? Why?”

“Well,” Michael hesitated for a moment, “Because I was always… different from them. I never liked to do the things most boys my age liked to do, and people just didn’t understand that.”

“People still bully you, don’t they?” Chara asked quietly. Michael nodded, a sad look on his face.

“People don’t like things they don’t understand.” Once more, a hush fell over the place, and the two sat in the solemn yet strangely comforting quiet.

“Chara,” Michael broke the silence, and there was an air of urgency in his voice. “I want you to promise me something.” Chara felt a bit uncomfortable.

“What?”

“Promise me that you won’t ever let anyone change you. You know who you are, and if you try to be something you’re not just to make others happy, you might lose yourself. Cherish the parts of yourself that make you proud, and work to change the parts that don’t. You decide who you want to be and who you are.” Michael’s eyes were dewy, and Chara knew he must be speaking from experience. “Please, promise me.”

“I promise,” Chara agreed, but they weren’t sure they could ever be who they truly were. Whenever they tried to be themself, somebody always had a problem with it. But they decided they would try. “I guess I’d better get home now.”

“Be safe,” Michael wiped his eyes. “And if you ever need help, don’t hesitate to ask me. Thank you, Chara.” Chara wasn’t sure why Michael was thanking them, but they nodded.

“Thank you.” Chara’s voice was watery as they threw their arms around Michael and hugged him for a long while. They let go and Michael unlocked the front door and held it for Chara. They left, feeling a little lighter than when they had arrived. Passing through the granite brick square, Chara left the small shop behind and trudged home along the dusty dirt trail, harsh sun beating down on their back.


	3. CHARA - A Means of Protection

Chara had completely forgone going into the house at all, and instead decided to traverse the woods at the base of the mountain. They loved the woods and went there whenever they didn’t want to be at home, which was unfortunately rather often. When they were exploring the forest, Chara didn’t have to worry about what the other kids thought or what their parents expected of them. It was just Chara. 

They ventured further into the overgrown forest before finally stopping at a clearing. A narrow, shimmering stream ran through the clearing and back into the trees. Buttercups and toadstools sprouted from below the crisp leaves and branches covering the forest floor. Chara let out a long breath and felt the tension leave their body. They felt it was impossible to stay bitter surrounded by such lush and tranquil scenery. Chara tip toed along a mossy, fallen tree, observing the branching termite grooves in the decaying bark. Then out of the corner of their eye, Chara saw something glimmer in the sun. They turned their attention to the quiet brook and peered over the bank. At the bottom lay a small pocket knife, partially buried in the sand and clay. Reluctantly, they brushed off the silt and picked it up. Upon closer inspection, the knife was somewhat rusted, and Chara struggled to fold it closed. Holding the rusty knife, Chara felt something inside them, like a strange twinge or a knot in their stomach.

“Perhaps this will come in handy someday.” Chara spoke aloud to themselves, but they hoped it was not true. A wave of anxiety crept over them, and they felt as if the clouds had blotted out the sun that had been shining on them. They decided it may be time to go home.

Dinner that night was quiet as per usual, with Mother prodding and prying, trying to stoke her pitiful, one-sided conversation with Father, who gave the typical one-word answers and finished his dinner as quickly as possible so he could watch TV. Quiet dinners were uncomfortable, but Chara preferred them to drunk, angry dinners. Remembering the knife in their pocket, they pushed their plate toward the center of the table.

“Can I be excused? I’m not very hungry.”

“May you?” Mother corrected. Chara rolled their eyes.

“May I be excused?” Rather than answering herself, Mother looked to Father.

“I don’t care,” Father snapped, exasperated, “Just don’t bug me and don’t do anything stupid. I’m going to watch my show.” Chara nodded, and the two took off in separate directions, leaving Mother alone at the table to clean up.

Chara waded up the creaky steps and crept into their room, shutting the door tight behind them. They pulled out the rusted pocket knife. Father would be angry if he found out Chara was hiding things from him again, so they decided it would probably be best if they kept the knife under their pillow at night and on them during the day. That night, they slept a little easier knowing the blade was right there if things ever went bad.


	4. CHARA - Rainy Monday

The weekend passed and was rather uneventful. Chara was both relieved and bored by this. However, they knew that relief wouldn’t last, for today was Monday and the beginning of the school week. Chara hated school. They liked reading and learning but they hated school. They hated the teachers. They hated the principal. And they especially hated the students.

It was a drab, rainy Monday, and Chara had to walk to school as usual. Although the village was rather small, school was on the complete opposite side of town, so when it rained Chara typically arrived soaked and a few minutes late.

Chara wiped their feet at the front door and brushed themself off before entering. The halls were empty, and Chara knew they must be late again. They jogged up the stairs to the second floor and eventually came to their first period classroom, taking a deep breath. Chara could hear the teacher’s voice from beyond the door but whatever she was saying didn’t register. They opened the door as quietly as possible and shuffled to their seat without saying anything, head hanging down toward the floor. Stifled giggles filled the room and Chara could hear that the teacher had stopped speaking. Chara sat silently at their desk and pulled their notebook and pen out of their grey backpack.

“Ahem,” the teacher cleared her throat, and a few kids snickered once more. “Charlie, you decided to join us today. I’m beginning to think I should change our class period to start at 8:45, just for you.” Another round of giggles.

“Sorry Ms. Ramone,” Chara muttered, not looking up from their desk. The teacher rubbed her temples and sighed.

“Just try not to let it happen again.” Ms. Ramone continued her lesson, and out of the corner of their eyes Chara could see the other students finally turning toward the front once more, no longer interested in tormenting the forlorn child. Relieved, Chara reached into their pocket and pulled out a piece of chewing gum before placing the balled-up wrapper back inside, smushed together with a wad of old gum and wrappers. They felt their hand graze the cool metal of the rusty pocket knife and smirked. Chara had something that nobody else knew about. A treasure all their own and something that finally belonged only to them.

As they plopped the gum in their mouth, Chara felt someone tap their shoulder from behind. They rolled their eyes. Chara knew exactly who it was. Leanne, the teacher’s pet. They ignored her and kept chewing, doodling in their notebook since they couldn’t focus well enough to take notes.

“Psst.” Hissed Leanne from behind, tapping on Chara’s shoulder once more. Chara’s brows furrowed as they tried to ignore her, not taking their eyes off their notebook.

“Pssst!” Chara felt Leanne tug on their sleeve, and the jolt ruined their doodle, a long tangent now hanging off the eye socket of the skull they had drawn.

“What?!” Chara whipped around in their seat to face Leanne. They saw a few of Leanne’s friends trying to hide their laughter behind their hands. Leanne pointed to her own mouth.

“You’re not allowed to have gum in class. Plus, I saw you drawing. You’re supposed to be listening to the teacher and taking notes.” Leanne leaned in close to Chara and they could almost feel the smug aura radiating off of her.

“I really don’t care.” Chara rolled their eyes, turning back to their paper. They hated Leanne almost as much as Billy. Maybe more. Her annoying, know-it-all mouth was always fixed into a crooked, smarmy smile and her grey eyes squinted, as if she were judging Chara’s every move. Chara drew Leanne’s head with a knife going through it, smiling to themself. Hopefully, Leanne wouldn’t see it and call Ms. Ramone. Instead, something hit Chara in the back of the head. It was a crumpled piece of paper. Chara stared straight ahead, praying Ms. Ramone wouldn’t notice and pick on them. Then, another ball of paper hit them. Chara heard quiet snorts and chuckles from behind them but continued to ignore the harassment. A few minutes passed, then yet another wad of paper smacked Chara’s head. This time, Chara shoved their hand into their pocket and pulled out the sticky ball of gum and wrappers. They were about to whip it at Leanne’s face, but a metallic CLANG echoed through the room and interrupted them. Leanne’s eyes opened wide, her face pale as a ghost. The teacher and all the kids had gone silent. Chara looked down and saw their pocket knife on the floor, partially opened.

“MS. RAMONE, CHARLIE WAS GOING TO STAB ME!” Leanne cried, a horrified expression on her face. Ms. Ramone stood motionless, jaw hanging open in shock. Chara sputtered, their face feeling hot and cold all at once. Their classmates all stared at them, suddenly grave.

“I- I didn’t- I wasn’t-!” Chara stammered.

“Charlie Becker, to the principal’s office- NOW! And LEAVE the knife!” Ms. Ramone finally managed. She looked angry and scared at the same time. Ignoring her command, Chara swiped up the knife and placed it in their pocket before dashing out of the room. Before Ms. Ramone could follow them or say anything more, they sprinted down the stairs and out the front door. They just knew she was going to call their parents, which meant they couldn’t stay at school or go home. Chara ran toward home in the rain, hyperventilating and crying as they did. They passed Michael’s bakery and glanced in the window as they ran. Chara could swear they saw Michael looking back at them, a sad and disappointed expression on his face.

They sped along the dirt road, racing past their house and the beautiful weeping willow in the yard. Chara disappeared into the woods behind the house at the base of the mountain. They had nowhere to go and knew their father would kill them if they came home after pulling a stunt like that. They decided then that they would hide out in the woods until it was very late and sneak back home when they knew Mother and Father were in bed. Chara finally sat on the ground beneath the trees, panting and sobbing.

Maybe I can never go home, they worried. Home wasn’t good, but at least it was a roof over their head. All they had now was the trees to give them meager protection from the falling rain. Chara curled up against the base of a pine tree and buried their head in their knees. The branches, thick with needles, sheltered them some from the rain. Cold, wet, and exhausted, Chara felt themself begin to drift off to sleep.


	5. CHARA - Fallen Down

Chara awoke disoriented to the sound of voices in the distance. It was still raining, but it was dark out now and the occasional roar of thunder could be heard. Remembering where they were, Chara felt a lump grow in their throat. They listened carefully as the voices seemed to grow louder over the downpour.

“Charlie! Charlieee!” People were calling for them. Chara didn’t recognize the voices but they stayed put, hoping it would be too dark for anyone to see them. Far in the distance, Chara could see small spots of light growing larger. Chara didn’t dare move, silently observing the lights. When the lights came close enough, Chara could just barely see silhouettes behind them. Then their faces were just visible.

Police. The officers Chara’s father worked with. They waved flashlights, calling out and searching for the child. Mortified, Chara stood from their spot beneath the tree and bolted away from the search party and further up the mountain.

“Hey! You! Stop right there!” One of the officers shouted, and the warm white glow of a flashlight enveloped Chara. They kept running until the light was off of them and the shouting became more distant. Panting, Chara could only manage to jog, weaving between the trees to throw the group off their trail. Splitting lightning flashed over and over, illuminating the surrounding area. Chara couldn’t see anyone around, and the voices were barely audible now. They finally stopped moving, leaning against a tree to regain their composure. As Chara’s breathing returned to normal, they pulled the rusty knife out of their pocket.

This stupid thing. Chara’s teary eyes narrowed at the weapon. It had caused them so much grief today. I should just throw it away.

“Charlie,” a familiar voice boomed behind them and they felt a heavy hand grab their arm. Chara turned, their blood feeling like ice in their veins. Before them stood their father in his police uniform. In his eyes, Chara could see nothing but rage and hatred. The scent of cigarette smoke and booze leaked from his breath, “Charlie, you GET YOUR ASS HOME NOW!” Father’s grip on their arm tightened, as if all his anger was suddenly localized entirely in his fat fingertips.

“You’re hurting me! Let GO!” Chara struggled against his grip, angry tears pouring down their cheeks.

“Hurting you? Not YET I’m not!” Father’s fingers dug into Chara’s arm and the sensation became unbearable. He raised his free hand in a fist as Chara continued to fight. Then, as if through some power beyond their own control, Chara drew the knife and sliced, tearing apart the skin on his face and neck. Father let go of Chara’s arm, stumbling backwards and holding his throat.

“What did you do?!” He gurgled, blood spurting from the wound and spraying from his mouth as he spoke. Horrified, Chara slowly backed away, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. They dropped the bloodied knife, watching terrified as their wounded father choked on his own blood, howling and gurgling like a dying animal.

“I- I’m sorry- I didn’t mean it, I swear! I-!” Chara stuttered through sobs, still trying to stumble away from the gruesome scene. Feeling sick, Chara turned and began to run away as rolling thunder boomed in the distance. One last time, they looked back through tear-filled eyes at the scene of their crime. Blinding lightning flashed, and Chara saw their father gripping his throat, blood pouring down his face and neck, covering his hands and his uniform. No longer were his eyes filled with hatred and malice. Now, Chara could see they held nothing. Nothing but fear.

Chara finally came upon a cave near the mountain’s peak. Flashes of lightning illuminated the entrance. Chara reluctantly entered and began to stumble further into the cave, their head pounding and their weary eyes failing them in the pitch black. Then, they tripped.

Chara fell down, down, down. And as they did, the only thing they could remember was their father’s terrified face as they ran their blade along his skin. He was probably dead.

_I am a monster._


End file.
